


The Blame Game

by Sandyclaws68



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fukurodani Group teams, Golden Week training camp, Team Dad, Team as Family, team mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 12:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18550219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandyclaws68/pseuds/Sandyclaws68
Summary: During his first training camp as captain Ennoshita has to acknowledge his growing and changing feelings towards their team manager.  But that doesn't mean he has to take responsibility for any of it.





	The Blame Game

If anyone asked Ennoshita had every intention of blaming Lev.

Not that it would be difficult for anyone to believe that.  The Nekoma second year was just as ridiculous as Hinata and Kageyama when it came to trying to grab an extra five (Ten? Twenty? Thirty?) minutes of practice.  Maybe even more so. But on that particular day someone other than his own teammates got fed up with him and did something about it.

It was the second day of the Golden Week training camp; a busier camp than usual since the schools of the Fukurodani group had all agreed to travel to Miyagi in exchange for Karasuno joining them again come summer break.  But the chilly, rainy weather was having a negative impact on everyone’s mood and not even their victory over Fukurodani in their last set before lunch had been able to lift it for his fellow Crows. As the new captain Ennoshita knew he would have to address the issue after their rest period.  He wasn’t looking forward to it, but there was no way he was going to let the enthusiasm of the previous year’s victories wane, even if it was just a training camp.

“Lev, you need to get off the court so we can finish cleaning,”

Ennoshita dumped the volleyballs he was carrying into the basket and turned to see one of the Shinzen managers standing, hands on hips, as she waited for Lev.  The Nekoma player was practicing jump serves - and failing miserably every other time - with a look of determination that suggested he’d be there the rest of the day if need be.  The Karasuno captain was on the verge of stepping in when Yachi crossed the court, approaching the silver-haired player who towered over her. She spoke to him, so softly that no one in the gym could catch the words, and when Lev bent down so he could hear better she grabbed hold of one of his ears and twisted.

The middle blocker’s howl of pain was probably audible back in Tokyo, and Ennoshita stifled a laugh behind his hand as Yachi tugged, more or less dragging Lev toward the door, voice growing louder, and more commanding, with each step.  “You’re going to get off the court, you’re going to eat a decent lunch, and you’re going to rest,” she listed, ignoring every discontented grumble from her companion. “For the  _ entire _ rest period, Haiba-san.  Believe me, I’ll know if you do otherwise.”  And with a last effort she shoved Lev out the door, sliding it closed with a loud smack behind him.  She dusted her hands off before turning to face the few people still in the gym, stopping when she caught sight of Ennoshita’s delighted grin.  “What?”

“Nothing,” was his reply, shaking his head in amusement.  “I was just remembering all the times I’d seen Suga-san do that to someone.”

Yachi grinned, face alight with mischief.  “Where do you think I learned it?”

He figured the sudden thumping of his heart was just leftover exertion from their most recent set.

****~**~**~**~**~****

By the time everyone was getting ready for dinner that evening Ennoshita had transferred most of the blame onto Hinata’s head.  His teammate was, as his name implied, a spark of sunshine that had the uncanny ability to draw people out of their shells and turn them into his friends before anyone even knew what was happening.  He had even done it for Yachi herself, back when the then first year student was debating joining the club as a manager.

That afternoon his target was the new, backup libero for Ubagawa; a truly talented first year who was almost pathologically shy.  The younger boy looked slightly terrified as Hinata spoke to him, complimenting him on the quickness of his reflexes and how graceful his diving receives looked.  When Nishinoya joined the pair and echoed every one of Hinata’s sentiments Ennoshita fully expected the youngest member of the trio to spontaneously combust.

But then Nishinoya gestured with his hands, probably an attempt to portray the dead-fish-flop style of diving receive that was formerly Hinata’s specialty and the first year laughed, the sound bright and cheerful inside the rain-gloomy gym.  And just like that the ice was broken, and the younger libero was peppering the two Karasuno players with questions, mainly about their run at Nationals the previous school year, but also begging Nishinoya for any advice. Ennoshita smiled as he watched the conversation get more animated and loud, then heard a soft chuckle beside him.

“It’s almost like watching a replay of myself falling under the spell that Hinata doesn’t even know he weaves,” Yachi softly commented, a gentle smile curving her lips.

“He is quite the magician with people, isn’t he?”

She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes.  “You sound like you speak from experience, Ennoshita-san.”

He flushed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, wincing at his sweat-soaked hair.  “Well, he did get me - and Kinoshita and Narita - to open up about something we had kind of been keeping squashed down last year.  It felt good to let it out.”

“I know.”  Yachi smiled at Ennoshita’s look of surprise.  “Hinata told me a little bit about it. Not any real details, just. . .”  She turned away and watched Nishinoya demonstrate his Rolling Thunder save to the awestruck Ubagawa first year.  “He mostly just said that you made him realize that it’s the moment when you run away that hurts the most, and I saw that for myself with Yamaguchi-kun.  So I decided that no matter what I wouldn’t run away; that I’d learn, and grow, and make myself worthy of the trust you have all placed in me.”

“Yachi-san?”

She turned toward the door where Takeda-sensei was calling her.  “I have to go; making sure everything is set-up for dinner is my responsibility tonight.”  She laid a hand on Ennoshita’s back. “Don’t let those idiots waste too much time, yeah?” And then she jogged across the gym, bowing briefly to Takeda before they left.

The swooping sensation in his stomach was most likely caused by hunger.  Right?

****~**~**~**~**~****

Two days later he was more than willing to set aside a portion of blame for Asahi.  Karasuno’s former ace had come by on his day off to help with the camp, giving advice on spiking to all of the first years (the ones that weren’t scared of him, that is) and cooking dinner.  It was after the meal was done and over with and the whole of Karasuno was helping with the clean-up that he approached Ennoshita.

“You seem to have everything well in hand, Chikara,” he said with a fond smile.  “You and Yachan make quite a team.”

Ennoshita hadn’t really been listening, more focussed on the enormous stack of plates he was hoping to get to the kitchen in one trip.  But when the name paired with his sank in he staggered slightly and the plates wobbled before he could take a deep breath and steady himself.  “Yachi? What makes you say she’s the other half of this team? Nishinoya is the vice-captain.”

Asahi laughed and turned his attention back to the pans he was scrubbing.  When he spoke again his voice was softer; soft enough to avoid being overheard by the rest of the team milling about the kitchen and dining area.  “She may not be your vice-captain but she is your support in all of this. The team mom to your team dad.” He flashed a grin towards his former kouhai.  “The Suga to your Daichi.”

At that comparison Ennoshita flushed bright red.  Suga-san and Daichi-san were Karasuno volleyball legends, not only for the determination and drive that took their team to Nationals, but for the depth of the emotions they shared as friends, teammates, and finally lovers. Asahi’s suggestion was. . .  Was. . .

Was it wrong?  Really? Did his feelings for Yachi trend in that direction?

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” Asahi spoke again, just as softly as before.  “It’s just. . . I see the two of you together and can’t help. . .” His words trailed off as he turned his attention back to the dirty dishes.  “You would be good for each other, I think.”

At that point Ennoshita would have willingly accepted death, if only to escape from the conversation, when Hinata walked up with a stack of trays in his hand.  “Wow, Captain, you are really red,” the flame-haired boy commented, dumping the trays in the sink and leaning in close. “Are you all right?”

All Ennoshita could do was emit a half-cough, half-groan as - impossible though it should have been - his face turned even redder.  With a strangled squeak that might have been a “Yes” in response to Hinata’s question he all but ran from the kitchen, leaving his former senpai and one of his second year teammates glancing at each other in confusion.

Once outside he made his way up the stairs to the clubroom and leaned against the rail, staring up at the sky.  The gloomy weather that had been a strain during camp was starting to clear; he could see the nearly-full moon peeking through the clouds.  It was a pleasant evening, if a little chilly, and Ennoshita was just starting to regret not having his jacket when a voice called to him from the yard below.

“Ennoshita-san?”

And of course it was Yachi, now fully cemented in his brain as the team mom.  She stood in the middle of the grassy verge between two buildings, the moonlight that found its way through the clouds shining on her hair.  And - wonder of wonders - she was holding a team jacket folded over her arm.

“I saw you leave the dining area and thought you might be a bit cold,” she said, moving away to climb the stairs and join him at the railing.  She held out the jacket when she was close enough and Ennoshita couldn’t help but smile.

“I am a bit cold, thanks,” he replied as he slipped his arms in the sleeves, revelling in the warmth that suddenly engulfed him.  Whether that warmth came from his jacket or from Yachi leaning against the rail at his side was open for debate.

They stood in a comfortable silence for a while, watching the clouds scudding past the moon and each wrapped up in their own thoughts.  It wasn’t until Ennoshita sighed that Yachi glanced his way and spoke. “Are you worried about tomorrow?” she asked, voice soft and gentle, perfectly pitched to not disturb the peace of the evening.

“Tomorrow?”

A half laugh, half sigh of exasperation escaped Yachi’s mouth.  “Yes, tomorrow. The practice match against Seijoh in the afternoon?”

Ennoshita had to think for a minute, but then a snort of laughter escaped him.  “That? No, I’m not worried about that at all.” When Yachi cast a doubtful glance his way he grinned.  “Don’t get me wrong, they’re still a great team. They’re just nowhere near as terrifying without Oikawa-san.”

Yachi giggled.  “I’m not going to argue with that.”  Then she grew sober again and turned around, back to the yard and leaning against the railing.  “So if it’s not tomorrow’s match what has you so worried?”

“Who says I’m worried about anything?”

With a sigh she extended a hand and laid it on his forearm.  “Nobody needs to say anything. I have eyes and I know you, Ennoshita-san.  You’re out here in the dark, alone, rather than conducting a team meeting. You’ve been quiet and withdrawn for the last couple of days, even during matches.  You didn’t yell at Hinata and Kageyama for their water fight in the bath last night and just now, in the kitchen, it was clear that Azumane-san said. . . well, something that made you withdraw even more.”  She took her hand off of his arm and crossed hers over her chest. “I want to help you with whatever this is, but you need to tell me first.”

Ennoshita inwardly cringed at the idea of telling Yachi how his thoughts had been centered on her recently and he would die a thousand times over before he ever told her how Asahi had equated the two of them with Daichi and Suga.  But he wasn’t foolish enough to think he would get out of the conversation without telling her something, so he shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t really think I know what’s bothering me,” he replied, voice soft as he turned to stare back at the moon.

“It’s been a stressful week.”

“More so than any other Golden Week camp we’ve done,” he agreed with Yachi’s comment.  “I think the bad weather made it worse, since it restricted what we could do.” he sighed and pushed a hand through his hair.  “I feel like I haven’t had a proper run in months, even though it’s only been a few days.”

“Is that really all it is? Stress and no real way to relieve it?” Yachi was looking his way now, studying his profile.

“Isn’t that enough?” Ennoshita questioned, eyebrows stretching towards his hairline.  He kept his face turned away, though, unwilling to risk her seeing the truth in his eyes.

With a sigh Yachi pushed away from the railing.  “I suppose it is,” she all but whispered as she started to walk away.  He didn’t make any attempt to stop her, and she was down the stairs and in the yard between the building when she spoke again.  “You’d tell me if it was something more, wouldn’t you?” she asked, voice carrying in the quiet night.

Ennoshita really didn’t have an answer for that question, so he wisely kept silent.

****~**~**~**~**~****

“Chance ball!”

“Alright alright!

“Kinnoshita, get the last!”

The wing spiker executed a textbook perfect feint, but Nekoma’s Innuoka was under it quickly.  Unfortunately his hit on the ball was just slightly off and it got caught in the net, spun once, and then dropped to the floor.

Ennoshita watched all of it from the sidelines, having been switched out for this, their final set against Nekoma for the training camp.  He was actually glad for the rest, since it gave him the opportunity to study how the team worked together with different combinations of players.  Kinnoshita was in his usual place, and Narita had replaced Tsukishima. Their first year libero was doing an acceptable job, even if not quite as spectacular as Nishinoya.  Who was being held back from forcibly rushing the court to reclaim his position by a laughing Yamaguchi.

The set continued, fierce and fun as only a friendly rivalry could be.  Ennoshita made mental notes of things that he would need to discuss with their coach - ideas for improvement - and also thought about his own place in the team’s chemistry.  Keeping the team running at its peak efficiency was a delicate balancing act, one he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to manage. Certainly not the way Daichi-san and Suga-san had.

“Ukai-san?  Ennoshita-san?”

That pulled him out of what could have been a spiral into self-doubt.  He looked up and saw Yachi standing not to far away, cursing his fair skin when he felt heat bloom in his cheeks.  Coach Ukai glanced his way, puzzled, before directing his full attention to Yachi.

“I just wanted to let you both know that Takeda-sensei heard from Coach Mizoguchi,” she went on, consulting the notebook she held,  “and Seijoh expects to arrive at three this afternoon. I figure with time to get changed and warm up we can start the practice match by four thirty.”

Ukai nodded once.  “Sounds perfect. Thank you, Yachan.”  Yachi smiled and walked away and their coach turned the full force of his gaze to Ennoshita.  “Okay, do you want to tell me what that was about? The blushing? Do you like her, or something?”

Ennoshita blushed even redder.  This was all his coach’s fault.

****~**~**~**~**~****

After the enormous lunch to celebrate the end of training camp everybody made their way to the courtyard in front of Karasuno to say their goodbyes.  There was a lot of laughter and a few tears (mostly from Hinata and Yamamoto) but mostly there were assurances of seeing each other again at summer training once the Inter High tournament was over.  Ennoshita stood to one side, watching the chaos unfold as the four Tokyo teams managed to straighten themselves out and get on the correct buses.

The rest period went by in the blink of an eye and before anyone was really ready the team from Seijoh was arriving, and they were all engrossed in on court warm ups.  Then they slipped out to the club room to change into their uniforms, everyone sporting new numbers except for Nishinoya and HInata. Once changed the team all but flew out of the room, leaving their captain behind, standing in front of the room’s one mirror, glaring at his reflection, the number 1 blazoned on his chest and the patch denoting his captaincy beneath it.

Yachi found him there barely five minutes later.  “Ennoshita-san, everyone’s waiting, and -” She caught a glimpse of the expression on his face and moved to stand between him and the mirror.  “What’s wrong?” she asked, laying a hand on his arm.

“I feel like a fraud,” he whispered, looking at, but not really seeing, the girl in front of him.  “I  _ am _ a fraud.”

“A fraud?  What -” He words were bitten off when she noticed how his hands were covering up the number and patch on his jersey, nervously clutching and creasing the fabric.  “No.” She took hold of his hands and forcibly pulled them away from the shirt. “No,” she repeated, emphatic. “You are not, could never be, a fraud. And of all the people who will follow in his footsteps and wear that patch I believe Daichi-san would be most proud of you.”

“Proud?” Ennoshita choked out, fighting the tears he could feel clogging his throat.  “Proud of the coward who ran away?”

Yachi shook her head and squeezed his hands in hers, hard enough to leave marks from her fingernails.  “No, proud of the hero who came back.”

The pain from the gouges her nails left grounded him the same way that the sting of the ball did, giving him the strength to finally meet her eyes.  “Yachi. . .” He stopped and gave his head a shake. “Hitoka, I -”

“Save it,” her quiet voice interrupted, a soft smile quirking her lips.  “You can tell me after we kick Seijoh’s butt.”

****~**~**~**~**~****

Their straight-set victory over Aoba Johsai was sweet.

Yachi’s soft voice calling him Chikara was even better.

The kiss was the absolute best.

**Author's Note:**

> Although this fic works just fine as a stand-alone in my heart I regard as part of my _100 years To Live_ series, which featured a blushing, staring, and eventually married Ennoshita/Yachi.


End file.
